Behind Bars For 25 Years In Paraguay

September 27, 1987|By James David Barber , Special to The Sentinel

Many years ago in a South American land known as ''a place with a great river'' there lived a young soldier named Napoleon Ortigoza.

He was named after one of the world's most famous generals, and that helped inspire his rise to the rank of captain of the cavalry when he was just in his early 20s. But his country had been taken over by an evil tyrant determined to snuff out liberty and to rule by the force of the sword. Napoleon, young as he was, spoke out against the villain. Hearing such talk, the tyrant set out to destroy him.

Napoleon was arrested; the charge was murder. Here is the story the police told: Napoleon had joined in a secret plot to overthrow the government. He and his sergeant, Ovando, got a young cadet to carry a hidden message to another captain, but the message was seized by police. Then, said the charge, Napoleon and Ovando, furious at the cadet, captured him and killed him by hanging him from a tree.

It was a strange story. If the police had caught the cadet carrying such a message, would they have let him go? And the charge was murder by hanging -- but it was found that the cadet had died of a fractured skull. No, what really happened was different: The police did arrest the cadet and find the message. But then they took him to the police station and tortured him until he died.

Locked in jail, Napoleon also was tortured. He could not help but say things the prosecutors could use against him at his trial. A court of the tyrant's officers tried Napoleon and Ovando without even letting them attend their own trial. The lawyer who defended them was publicly threatened by the police and later was slammed into prison, beaten and then finally expelled from the country forever.

Napoleon and Ovando were sentenced to death. They were Catholics. They

prayed to God for mercy.

But a monk of the Order of St. Francis came forward, in public, and said that if the two were executed, he would tell who had really murdered the cadet.

He knew, because he had heard it in confession. The tyrant did not want this to happen, so the court changed the sentence to 25 years in prison for Napoleon and 15 years for Ovando. Good news? Yes and no.

They put Napoleon in a cell and left him alone. At first, being alone was a relief. He could rest. He could pray. He could think about whatever he wanted to. But before long, the joy of solitude turned into the terror of abandonment.

A week went by, a month, a year and still Napoleon was alone. A few times his mother was allowed to come see him, a blessing no doubt, but only for a short time. In between, the hours, the days, the nights dragged on. Like an animal kept in a trap, Napoleon began to weaken. His daughter was let in to visit him occasionally, and sometimes she brought her children, Napoleon's grandchildren. But most of the time Napoleon saw only the company of himself. There were at least laws in that country, and the military code said that Napoleon could, after he had served half his sentence, appeal to be released. That would take a petition, submitted by a lawyer. A good hope? No.

The government would not let him see his lawyer, and so he could not file the petition. Again, despair. Napoleon tried another appeal and that one did make it to the courts, but his request for freedom was rejected. The reason: The courts said Napoleon had a record of bad behavior in prison. He had tried to kill himself, they said.

Perhaps they were right. After all, Napoleon was kept in prison all alone for as long a time as he had lived out of prison.

One day the government, as was its custom twice a year, did let the judges of the country's Supreme Court come to the prison where Napoleon was locked up.

However, the prison authorities would not let the justices visit Napoleon for an interview. He was in too poor mental health, they said, so what he said would mean nothing.

The inspection was set to pass him by. But suddenly the tour was interrupted. Someone was screaming. The visitors turned and saw Napoleon screaming his name out the window of his cell, screaming for their help.

Surely the judges were shocked. But they were judges under the tyrant. Did the screams lead to Napoleon's release? No. Instead, the window of his cell was blocked with bricks so that he could not again disturb official visitors. It was a long ordeal. And yet, the time was coming when Napoleon's sentence would be over. The remaining months began to shorten. Would he be freed? Or would the tyrant find still another way to box him in? Could Napoleon hold on to his sanity until they let him go? Or would they find a way to kill him, as they had killed the cadet, and blame it on someone else?

The story continues.

This story is no fairy tale. By all the best information available it is true. As you read this, Napoleon Ortigoza is in solitary confinement in the Guardia de Seguridad prison in Asuncion, Paraguay, still imprisoned by that country's dictator, Alfredo Stroessner.